


Everyone Loves Dogs

by Callistemon



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Phobias, Post-Season/Series 02, damages - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 13:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10492188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callistemon/pseuds/Callistemon
Summary: "Everyone loves dogs, Matt."It turns out Foggy's wrong. Matt's terrified of small dogs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months back. It's clearly ridiculous because dogs are amazing, but I thought it was an interesting premise nonetheless.

“He’s going to love it. You’re a genius, Karen,” Foggy said as they hurried to Matt’s, dog in tow. In a desperate attempt to get Matt out of his current funk, Foggy had borrowed his uncle’s dog Milly for the day. After all, everyone loves dogs. Dogs make everything better.

Matt had been a mess ever since the closure of Nelson & Murdock. Foggy had stayed away for a couple of weeks after the whole disaster, furious at his friend’s stubbornness and single-mindedness. The anger quickly subsided and he found himself yearning for Matt’s company, so he swallowed his pride and turned up at Matt’s with a six-pack of beer and a potential hug. There, he found a shrivelled and depressed version of his once confident friend. Over the next couple of weeks, Foggy tried everything: he waited on Matt with comfort food and kind words, offered to call Claire (or better still, a therapist), sat with him in silence, attempted to extract him from the apartment for a walk, and even offered to re-form their old law firm (although he was quite relieved when Matt rejected the offer). Nothing worked. It was time to bring out the big guns.

Milly was a small fluffy thing - a terrier cross of unknown origins. She rarely barked, was immaculately groomed, and loved everyone. Most importantly, she made everyone smile.

About four blocks from Matt’s apartment, Foggy suggested they split up. He would go up first, make sure Matt was at least dressed and awake, and then Karen would follow with the dog. “Did he tell you how far his hearing reaches?” Foggy said, not sure exactly how much Matt had told Karen about his abilities.

“He mentioned heartbeats,” she said vaguely. “I found it a bit creepy to be honest.”

“You and me both,” Foggy said. “Anyway, in addition to heartbeats he can hear regular speech a couple of blocks away if he’s _not_ concentrating.”

“But doesn’t that mean he’ll hear the dog on the stairs?”

“Oh yeah. Maybe you should carry her. Release her only at the door. I’ll leave it open a crack.”

“Okay. He’s going to be so surprised. This is so great,” Karen squealed.

Foggy knocked on Matt’s door a few times before Matt reluctantly answered. His hair was sticking up on end, and he was wearing the same t-shirt as yesterday.

“Hey buddy, I thought I’d come say hi.” Even Foggy found those honeyed words a little nauseating.

Matt didn’t say anything. He just turned around and wandered into the kitchen, leaving Foggy to follow.

“Wanna beer?” Matt said, opening the fridge.

Foggy raised his eyebrows. “It’s before noon, Matt.”

Matt ignored Foggy’s point. He pulled out two beers, opening them both and sitting one of them on the counter. “If you want it, it’s yours. Otherwise I’ll drink it later.”

Foggy accepted the beer, if only to stop Matt from quickly chugging down his first (if it even _was_ his first) and moving onto the next. Knowing Matt, that was probably his overall strategy anyway.

They sat on the couch in awkward silence, sipping their beers until Foggy remembered that he should at least distract Matt from hearing a second and slightly faster heartbeat accompanying Karen up the stairs. “So I was thinking, if you want a job, there’s some temp work going at work. It’s just discovery, but it’s something to pay the bills.”

“I can pay the bills, Foggy. There’s no need for charity… but thank you.” Matt took a long swig from the bottle.

“Oh, okay. Um, well, mum and dad have invited us both round for lunch next Sunday if you want to-”

“Thanks, but I’m busy.” Another swig.

“With what? You’ve barely left the house for weeks.”

“Church.”

“Oh, okay,” Foggy said, picking at the label on his beer bottle. “You could come after?”

“Mmm no I think I’ll give it a miss, thanks.”

“Oh, okay.” Foggy knew that his offers of help were going nowhere and he was starting to sound like a broken record, so he changed tack. “Marci says hi, by the way.”

“Huh,” Matt said, unimpressed.

“And Brett.”

Matt turned his head, a little more interested. “How’s Brett doing, you know, after the assault?”

“Better, yeah.”

“Good.”

They sat in awkward silence for a good half-minute, focussing on the beer in lieu of conversation.

All of a sudden, Matt stilled. Seconds later, Karen knocked at the door. There was a sudden scrabbling as Milly was released from Karen’s grasp. The dog ran straight at Matt, who let out a yelp of surprise. He dropped his beer, which shattered and fizzed on the floor. Terrified, Matt ran up the stairs to the roof, hoping to escape through the emergency door. He wasn’t quick enough though and before he could jostle the door unlocked, Milly had caught up and hurled herself at his leg. Matt wailed and jumped over the railing, landing in a roll on the floor below. He quickly leaped onto the table and crouched low to the surface while yelling, “get it away” to Foggy and Karen. Milly promptly skittered down the stairs and stood underneath the table, wagging her tail and letting out small whines of excitement. In her opinion, it was a great game.

Foggy and Karen watched the whole thing with a mix of amusement and horror. Karen was still standing at the front door, but had her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. Neither of them made a move to put Milly on a leash.

“You’re shitting me, Matt.” Foggy said, raising one eyebrow. “You’re scared of dogs?”

“What are you doing to me? Take it away! I’ll sue for damages. I will,” Matt panted, clearly terrified.

“What are you talking about? She’s not damaged anything. She’s barely fourteen pounds. Nothing that small, friendly and cute could damage you.”

“Psychological damage. Please take it away, Foggy,” Matt pleaded. “Karen? Please!”

Milly gave a sharp bark and Matt leapt from the table to his kitchen bench, causing the table to crash over sideways, narrowly missing the small dog. She didn’t seem fazed, however. She merely followed him into the kitchen, scrabbling and jumping against the kitchen cupboards in an attempt to get closer to Matt.

“Foggy, maybe I should take her home,” Karen said softly.

“No,” Foggy said stubbornly. “Not until he explains how he’s scared of a harmless ball of fluff.”

Milly was now twirling in an excited blur beneath the bench, desperate to reach Matt - the person who played ‘chasies’ so well. Matt jumped over to the kitchen window and started pushing against it in an attempt to escape, even though he knew full well that the window had been stuck the entire time he’d lived there.

Foggy gave a theatrical sigh. “If I promise to hold her, will you come down?”

“No. Take her and leave,” Matt retorted.

Feeling sorry for her quivering friend, Karen reattached Milly’s leash.

“There,” Foggy said. “She’s on a leash. She’s not going to kill you with affection now. Will you come down from there?”

“Not until you’ve all left my home,” Matt said, still sheltering by the window.

“But Matt, please tell me why,” Foggy begged, holding a hand out to his friend. “Maybe I can help. I thought this would cheer you up.”

“You thought wrong. Please leave. Or I’ll – I’ll-”

“Throw a knife at her?”

“No,” Matt snapped, a look of disgust on his face. “You think I’m going to kill someone’s dog because I’m scared?”

“No of course not,” Foggy said slowly. “I’m just trying to figure out how the man without fear… you know, never mind… Karen, I think we should leave.”

Matt remained on the kitchen bench until Foggy and Karen’s heartbeats were well outside his hearing range. He shakily climbed down and curled up on the couch in the foetal position. Why would Foggy do that to him?


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, Foggy returned to clear things up. Matt refused to answer the door, so Foggy used his spare key, worried that Matt had done something drastic.

“Hey,” Foggy said, perching on the edge of the armchair. Matt was still curled up on the couch. “I’m sorry about before,” Foggy said kindly. “I had no idea. I just thought when you said you didn’t want a dog it was because you didn’t want a guide dog, not because you didn’t like dogs.”

He waited for Matt to say something, but Matt didn’t even move.

Foggy continued, “she’s a lovely dog. I - I just thought that she’d cheer you up. You know, the silky texture of her fur, the unconditional love-”

“I’m not scared of dogs,” Matt said softly.

“So what was that earlier?”

“Small dogs – I don’t like small dogs. Big ones are okay.”

Foggy shook his head, confused. “What kind of screwed up logic is that?”

“I don’t need your judgement right now, Foggy.”

“Okay, explain it to me. Why don’t you like small dogs?”

“I don’t know-” Matt swallowed. “Stick said…” He petered off before he could finish the sentence.

“What did Stick say?”

“Nothing,” Matt mumbled. “It’s stupid.”

“Stupid, as in it’s time to reassess the world views you were force fed by your crazy old trainer?”

Matt curled up a little tighter. “Maybe it’s not rational,” he finally admitted.

Foggy snorted. “Rational is avoiding mass battles with ninjas. We both know you’re not a rational being.” He sat back in the armchair and rubbed his forehead in frustration. “What I don’t get is how you’re brave enough to take on the entire Russian mob single-handedly, but you’re reduced to a quivering heap when faced with a small dog.” Matt’s mouth twitched a little, which Foggy took as an encouraging sign. “So what do you do when you’re saving someone and a small dog enters the scene? Does Daredevil go screaming from the area? Is that his secret weakness?”

“It’s never come up. Criminals tend to favour big dogs-”

“With fangs and death grips and the ability to do a lot of bodily harm very quickly.”

“You’ve made your point,” Matt said impatiently.

“Hey, maybe we need a project. Maybe we could work to desensitise you from your tiny dog fear.”

Matt slowly sat up. “Foggy, I don’t want-”

“Do it for Hell’s Kitchen, Matty. I for one don’t want to be stabbed just because there’s a Chihuahua between Daredevil and my assailant.”

“That’s not even vaguely plausible,” Matt snapped.

“I could work out the odds,” Foggy said, getting out his phone. “Let me see,” he muttered as he looked up the stats, “there are twenty four thousand Chihuahuas in New York City…”

“Ha ha, you’ve made your point.”

Foggy kept scrolling. “There really are a lot of small dogs in the city. Somehow you’ve managed to evade them all up till this point. How have I never seen you run from a small dog before?”

“Well, firstly they’re all on a leash, not loose in my home; and secondly, I just cross the road when I hear one coming.”

Foggy tried to remember a moment where Matt had crossed the road without warning. “Hang on, is that why you didn’t come to Christmas that year we went to my uncle’s? Because you knew he had a small dog?”

Matt hung his head.

“Matt, I cannot believe that you want to remain scared of small dogs for the rest of your life. Will you train with me? We can desensitise you.”

“That won’t work. I won’t.” Matt said stubbornly.

It took a full hour of arguments and counterarguments before Matt finally agreed to Foggy’s (now patented) small dog desensitisation course. Foggy suspected that Matt only agreed to it so that he’d be left alone, so Foggy sneakily added an event to Matt’s phone calendar when visited the bathroom.

To Foggy’s joy and surprise, Matt’s desensitisation ‘treatments’ not only alleviated his fear of tiny canines, but they also seemed to help lift his depression. Perhaps it was the fact that Foggy would get him out of the house and into New York’s parks and open spaces, or that he was working towards something that had a practical benefit. Or maybe it was just the time spent with Foggy (and occasionally Karen). About a month after the Milly incident, Foggy borrowed his uncle’s dog again for the ultimate test. They’d agreed that Milly would be introduced slowly on-leash, and once Matt gave the okay, Milly could be released.

Karen waited outside the door with Milly while Foggy gave Matt the final brief. “Just remember, Milly loves playing chase, so don’t run.”

Matt nodded seriously.

Foggy yelled, “Karen, we’re ready.”

Karen walked in with a straining Milly. Her whole body was a giant wag, such was her enthusiasm. Matt stood still, trying not to think about the last time she was here. Oh the shame! Oh the fear!

“Okay. Wait there, Karen.” Foggy said. “Matt, when you’re ready, go and put your hand out for her to sniff. She’ll calm down after awhile.”

Matt slunk forward and slowly put his hand out for her to smell. She sniffed it carefully then bucked her head in joy, practically convulsing with excitement. Matt flinched and stepped back.

“It’s okay, you’re doing well,” Foggy coached.

Matt tried again, moving forward and putting his hand on her head. She pushed her snout up and gave him a lick on the wrist. He gasped, but didn’t pull away.

“You’re doing really well, Matt,” Foggy encouraged. “Give her a few more pats and then we’ll take her off the leash.”

“No, Foggy. I can’t,” Matt said in a growing panic. “Not today. Maybe next time.”

“Pfft. You’re totally ready. Just say when, Man Without Fear.”

Matt glared at him for using that moniker in such a situation.

After ten minutes of patting on-leash, Milly had calmed down significantly. As soon as she was released, however, her energy increased tenfold. She took Matt by surprise, leaping on him with such force that he stumbled and fell backwards. She did a 360 degree spin of frantic joy and then started licking Matt on the face, who appeared too shocked to react.

Foggy took it as a win too soon. Matt quickly came to his senses and leapt to his feet. He was about to jump onto the table, but then remembered Foggy’s sage words about the chasing game. He stood still while she looked up at him, eagerly wagging her tail. She quickly became bored with the unmoving Matt and trotted over to Foggy, who patted her head affectionately.

“There, I did it,” Matt said gruffly. “Now can you take her home please?”

“Oh no you didn’t,” Foggy said. “You still need to spend some quality time with her. You need to sit with her and not be scared.”

Matt rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. “Okay, what do you suggest?”

“Sit down here on the rug.”

Matt edged over to the living area. “Can you sit first?” Matt asked his two friends.

“Sure,” Foggy said, plonking himself on the floor. This was going to be a long afternoon.

 

The following evening, Matt and Foggy met up at Josie’s to celebrate Matt’s desensitisation success.

Foggy waited until they were three beers in before broaching the question. With a forced casualness, he said, “you never told me how you became so scared of small dogs, Matt.”

“It’s silly and irrational,” Matt said, waving him off.

“Most fears are. You said it was something about Stick. You seem to have gained a lot of rather counterproductive world views from that man, so I’m not surprised that this is his doing.”

“It’s not,” Matt said shortly.

“Okay, so tell me what happened.”

Matt thought for a moment. He sighed and said softly, “promise not to judge?”

“Oh come on, you’re taking all the fun out of it. Judging you is my only pleasure.”

Matt pouted. “Fine. I won’t tell you.”

“I was joking,” Foggy said, patting Matt on the shoulder. “No judgment. All support. Go.”

“Well, Stick said that small dogs were for ‘pussies’ – his words, not mine-”

“Yeah I guessed that,” Foggy interrupted with a chuckle.

“-for people who are weak.” Matt paused.

“So how do you get from that to being scared?” Foggy interrupted again.

“Let me finish…”

“Sorry.”

Matt continued, “so anyway, I avoided small dogs because I didn’t want to seem weak. There was a small dog that lived next door to the orphanage, and sometimes it would be tied up outside. After meeting Stick, I started avoiding it because – well – if I liked the dog then I was weak – again, Stick’s words. Anyway, as I avoided it, the fear grew – not of being weak, but of the dog itself… I don’t know. I’m not explaining it well. It’s silly.

“Only as silly as your adherence to Stick’s other doctrine: don’t get close to anyone.”

“Anyway, now you know. And you’ve also cured me.”

“Oh no I haven’t. Not yet. You’ve only passed Small Dog Desensitisation 101. Before I pronounce you cured, you have to come to Christmas at my uncle’s where there will be three dogs and a lot of ham.”

 

A month later, Matt was sitting on Foggy’s uncle’s couch with Milly curled up against his thigh. Foggy had been right. Milly’s fur was incredibly soft and once she got over her hysterical greeting mode, she was actually quite calm and snugly.

“Here we go, buddy,” Foggy said, handing Matt a present.

Matt smiled and began to unwrap it, careful not to disturb the dog. At the sound of ripping paper, Milly re-animated. Matt instinctively flinched.

“Woah, calm down,” Foggy said. “Otherwise I’m going to have to confiscate that.”

Matt ran his fingers over the framed card.

“It’s printed only in braille, so you can hang it in your apartment safe in the knowledge that only you and I will know about your _former_ fear,” Foggy said with a smile.

“Franklin Nelson Academy,” Matt read out loud with a snort.

Foggy said in mock offence, “don’t laugh, it’s a most regal institution.”

Matt started again. “Franklin Nelson Academy hereby confers upon Matthew Michael Murdock the degree of Enjoying the Company of Small Dogs. Presented on this twenty-fifth day in December, in the year of two thousand and sixteen.”

“Happy?” Foggy asked the now grinning Matt.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” said Matt, scratching Milly affectionately behind the ear. He couldn’t be happier.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah for dog love!


End file.
